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[Previous entry: "Throwing up"] [Next entry: "Peter Sarah evening" ]


26 June 2005

For those of you keeping score: I havenít thrown up all day. Which is a good thing, but it leaves me a little adrift. If Iím not being ill, what am I doing? Well, Iím not going to my good friend Valís ever-so-slightly-more-than-49 party, which is where I was meant to be. I may not be throwing up, but I havenít actually eaten anything for three days or so, and this is not the time to start chucking alcohol into my poor abused stomach, and lovely as I am, I donít believe I could actually get through a party without drinking. Never done it, never tried it, never want to. As well go to dinner and not eat...

So, in my newly pure and cleansed state, I have been taking advantage of this uncorrupted palate and testing all the various waters I have in the house, from bottled mineral to freshly filtered tap. Interestingly, I have come to the same conclusion Iíve been working on for years, in my utterly impure, unclean and thoroughly corrupt state: which is that filter it as you will, tap water is still dull and flat and tasteless, while Volvic remains my bottle of choice.

Having asserted this, I set about improving the tapwater with heat, honey and lemon: which felt bold, but had no ill effects. No whisky, please note: the boy is seldom a good boy, but he is not entirely stupid.

The other thing I did - in tribute to Valís party, because I promised that I would, in my absence - I shaved my head. Been thinking about it for years; never been sick enough to do it before. This time, if people laugh I can blame delirium. Not that itís that dramatic, next to the deeply-short haircuts Iíve been favouring anyway. Just a lot cheaper, really, given that you can do it yourself. Thoí I may have to buy a razor of some kind, if Iím going to make a habit of this. When I say Ďshavedí, what I actually did was run the beard-trimmer over it, which leaves me with a close stubble. Having come this far, I find I am curious to know what it would be like entirely smooth. Me and Jacob, itís a brother thing...

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© Chaz Brenchley 2005
Reproduced here by permission of Chaz Brenchley, who asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this work.